


A Change of Perspective_2

by 11_Gadget_27



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Rough Sex, Smut, Tender Sex, Turian, minor breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11_Gadget_27/pseuds/11_Gadget_27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My second fill for this prompt:<br/>"I had Sparatus, the Turian councilor in mind for this, but it would work with Victus too. The Reaper war has just ended, and everything is in shambles. Resources are low, infrastructure is fucked, and it'll be slow going, repairing the galaxy. The turians have seen themselves as the galaxy's protectors for a long time, but until they have money for aid/more ships/etc they will have a rough go of it. Sparatus does his best to raise money for the Hierarchy, but most of the people who have access to large sums of credits are looking to part with them even less than usual. He's racking his brain for ideas, until somebody tactlessly makes a joking remark about selling his body. Sparatus has always been a pragmatic turian. He takes the idea and runs with it. Within a few short months, Sparatus is the highest-paid, most successful prostitute in history. Male, female, turian, alien, rough fucks, tender loving... no reasonable request is refused.<br/>Who are his clients? What do they ask of him? Does he like his job? That is all for you to decide, anon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Perspective_2

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously you noticed the 2 at the end of the title. The first one can be found in my Mass Effect Kinkmeme Mini-fills ficlet compilation. This was too long to be apart of that so it got it's own thing.
> 
> Also, I moonlight as an artist on occasion. So here's the Novius I drew:  
> http://fav.me/d6sby1x  
> Ignore the rest of my work, it's ancient and just godawful.

A Change of Perspective: Part 2

 

The turian sitting on the foot of Sparatus’ bed was not someone he’d planned to see again.  In fact, he was someone he’d hoped _not_ to see again.  But there he was, hands together, elbows on his knees and his head down pointed at his feet.

Novius was the youngest client Sparatus had ever had at only twenty-years-old.  In certain light he looked even younger: short at less than six feet and built painfully thin as if he had been underfed his entire life. Golden amber eyes looked out from a common face, sandy plates, tan flesh, a shorter than average fringe, and he was nearly barefaced but for the single thick orange stripe over the bridge of his nose and under his eyes. 

None of his looks mattered to Sparatus though, what he didn’t like was just how young he was, how inexperienced he felt and acted. And that he had specifically told the boy not to come back. He was too young in more ways than just his physical age. Novius was far too trusting, too genuine, too kind and just so innocent. Most of Sparatus’ clients gave him aliases if they bothered to give names at all but when the young turian had introduced himself, he’d heard the honesty in his subtones. Novius had taken the time to get to know him, not just his body but his mind too. He’d treated Sparatus more like his lover than someone he’d paid to have sex with. That was why he’d told the boy not to come back that first time, afraid on some level of corrupting him, afraid of _liking_ him.

“What are you doing here?” Sparatus asked him finally, putting a note of reprimand in his tones. _I told you not to come back here._

Novius glanced up from his crossed hands, his mouth opening just a little and then closing as if he’d changed his mind on his first answer. “I um…How are you Casca?”

The kid was unfailingly polite too and at another time in his life Sparatus would’ve been okay with that. “I’m fine. Yourself?”

The younger man looked at his hands again and shrugged. “I’m…I guess I’m okay.” He said but he sounded unsure.

Sparatus let the odd answer slide for the moment. “Why are you here?”

“Because I trust you with what I’m about to ask.” Their eyes locked then and the boy’s pupils were fully dilated making Sparatus wonder if he was drunk or maybe high.

Something nagged at his senses but he ignored it for the moment. “What do you want to ask me?”

“I was wondering…um…” Novius’ subvocals wavered between embarrassed and hopeful. “I want you to…hurt me.”

Sparatus felt his mandibles drop away from his jaw; he was sure he’d misheard. No, he had certainly misunderstood the boy’s words. Novius had never struck him as the type of man to enjoy pain even a little, spirits he didn’t even like being bitten. That, _something_ tugged at his senses again but before he could come up with a reply of any kind, the youth was standing within arms’ reach and looking up at him earnestly.

“I don’t mean like I want you to hit me or anything,” He reassured. “I just…don’t want gentle. I want to be fucked, to be dominated. Can you do that for me Casca? Please?”

He stared at the younger turian for a moment before his tongue loosened from the roof of his mouth and his brain was able to form words other than ‘what’ or something equally as asinine. “Why are you asking me?”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to know but it was a start. Novius just looked up at him, his mandibles twitching the slightest bit and Sparatus found himself worried about just how wide the pupils of his eyes were and wondered whether or not the youth was thinking clearly and not under some substance related influence.

“I can’t expect to ask one of my friends and ever hope to live it down. You’re…safer in a sense and I know you won’t think less of me. I know you won’t judge me because I want rough sex.”

Novius reached out then and gently grabbed Sparatus’ hands where they hung limply at his sides. The younger turian stepped closer until he could feel the warm breath at the base of his throat and smell the heady arousal that came off him.

“Casca?”

That name again spoken in such a naïve and open tone by a younger man that _trusted_ < him. Why did the tone off Novius’ voice make him want to tell the youth his real name, to erase the secrets between them?

“Can you do this one thing for me? Will you hurt me?”

This was wrong, there was something wrong here, and Sparatus knew it. He knew he should jerk his hands from Novius’ and knew that he should push the youth away but he couldn’t. More than that, he found that he didn’t want to. Because, if Novius went and found someone else to play with and was truly hurt, Sparatus knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

“Yes,” He answered finally, trying to hide the traitorous eagerness in his subharmonics. “You will do what I tell, how I tell you. And…” He needed to give the boy a way out if it became too much. “If you need to stop, tell me and I will. Is that satisfactory Novius?”

The youth nodded his head but his eyes never left Sparatus’. “There just one thing I need to do first.”

Novius, for all his youth and inexperience, was an excellent kisser. He wrapped a hand around the back of Sparatus’ neck and pulled him down until their mouths could meet. The younger man started off gentle enough, just breathing into him as he tilted Sparatus’ head to get a better angle, but the kiss quickly became heated. He flicked his tongue against the roof of Sparatus’ mouth causing a delightful little tingle then carefully traced the edges of his teeth before he set their tongues to dance together. He could feel the outer edge of Novius’ mandibles rubbing on the inside of his own as their kiss grew more passionate.

Sparatus stood there and let the boy kiss him for as long as he wanted and he didn’t stop the wandering hands that slid beneath his shirt to his skin. Or the nimble fingers that groped his waist like a professional, and Sparatus had almost laughed at that thought. _He_ was the professional, Novius just had natural talent. He let the kiss go on for what seemed like forever, caressing the youth in his own right although he kept his touch above the clothing rather than under it.

He’d finally had enough when his mind started feeding him images and ideas of Novius’ skilled tongue somewhere else. The boy had more than had his fun. Sparatus took hold of Novius’ head, just beneath his fringe and jerked him in closer, pushed his tongue deeper into the youth’s mouth and wound it around his own. Hands tightened on his waist as Novius moaned into his mouth and pulled them flush together.

Sparatus broke their kiss, placing a hand at the base of Novius’ throat and pushing him back. The way the youth looked at him then, his gaze smoldering with desire, he seemed almost feral. The scent of arousal and need that came from Novius was nearly irresistible and Sparatus wanted to bury his face in the youth’s throat and just breathe him in. It took a surprising amount of willpower not to.

Instead, he put his hands on Novius’ shoulders and pushed the youth to his knees. He went willingly, hands sliding down Sparatus’ waist to the top of his hips as the youth’s fingers found the clasps that held his pants closed. Novius gazed up at him, mandibles slanted in a smug but inquiring grin, his thumbs just slightly dipping in between fabric and flesh. Sparatus had barely nodded his permission before the youth slipped the buttons open and fanned the fabric outward over his hips.

“Reaper,” Novius told him as he laid his mouth just above Sparatus’ groin, his mandibles fluttering against the skin.

“What?” Certainly not a word he’d thought he’d hear in such a context.

“The word I’ll say if it gets to be too much.” He was tugging the fabric down Sparatus’ thighs as he spoke and the older man stepped easily from them when they reached his feet. “I figure you might hear _no, don’t_ and _stop_ in various combinations. So when I say ‘Reaper’, it means I’ve had enough and want you to stop whatever you’re doing immediately.”

Sparatus found that he couldn’t take his eyes off Novius’ mouth as the boy spoke, he heard the words but he was definitely distracted. It didn’t help his focus that his groin plates were rapidly spreading open, his cock already getting hard when the youth had barely touched him.

He had to swallow to get his mouth working enough to speak but he wasn’t able to lift his eyes. “You aren’t going to be able to talk for a few minutes. I want your mouth-“

Novius didn’t let him finish before he had darted forward and stuck his tongue between the widening plates. Sparatus slammed his hands down on his shoulders to keep from losing his balance at the suddenness of the contact. The feeling of hot tongue slipping past his plates had his head spinning. Something Novius took complete advantage of and his hands gripped Sparatus’ hips as he pushed his tongue as far as it would go.

The older turian’s thoughts swam. Hadn’t the boy said he wanted to be dominated, to be used? Currently Sparatus didn’t feel like the one in control, not with the way that rough but wet tongue had his thoughts focusing on one thing. He really, _really_ wanted to watch Novius swallow his dick, or at the very least take all of it into his mouth. He had always enjoyed having his cock licked and sucked, and it had quickly become one of his favorite things since taking the _position_ , but he had a much better appreciation of it now than he did before. Novius certainly knew what he was doing. At this rate Sparatus thought he was the one in need of a safety word.

And then the younger man backed off completely, his hands letting go of Sparatus’ hips and sliding down his thighs as they went. Novius looked up with his golden eyes still smoldering in that feral way even as his mandibles trembled against his jaw. Sparatus couldn’t tell if it was nervousness or excitement that had them shaking. _He_ was excited, very; he’d slid fully from his sheath the moment Novius had let him go. The youth broke eye-contact, glancing down at his length and his mandibles flared outward before snapping back into place.

“Use me Casca.” He said and his voice was rough with lustful subtones.

There was less than a foot of space between them but it was too much and Sparatus wrapped his hand around the back of the youth’s neck to pull him closer. Novius scooted forward on his knees, those eyes never leaving his shaft until there were only inches separating them. Sparatus could feel the warmth of his breath low on his belly and all over his cock. The hand he had on the back of Novius’ neck tightened on reflex and urged the boy to meet his eyes again. There was far more black than gold.

Sparatus lifted his other hand and grasped the youth’s chin, tugging until Novius opened his mouth. There were some things the turian mouth just couldn’t _do_ in this situation. Suction was near impossible without lips, it could be done, sure, but Sparatus knew for a fact that it wasn’t quite the same. On the upside, turians didn’t have front teeth on top or bottom, only on the sides. So if Sparatus had the inclination, he could fit his cock into Novius’ mouth without worrying about any danger as long as he was careful. He was absolutely inclined and judging from the way the warm breath hit his dick faster, Novius knew what he had in mind. Fingers on his chin, Sparatus pulled the youth’s mouth open a little more, stifling a groan when the wet tongue flicked against his thumb.

He dropped his hand, wrapping it around the thick base of his shaft to guide himself. “Stick out your tongue,”

Novius complied, eyes rolling up to meet his as the older man laid his dick on his tongue and kept it there. He breathed steadily in and out of his nose as Sparatus slid his entire length along the rough bed of his tongue slowly until his nose was touching skin. Sparatus almost cursed when the tip of his cock hit the opening of Novius’ throat and he _felt_ the boy fighting down his gag reflex. _Sweet spirits that feels good._ He let go of his base, smoothing that hand along the top of the youth’s fringe and moved his other hand up underneath it giving him full control of Novius’ head. The boy’s eyes burned as he stared up at him, full of defiance and confidence along with a desperate need as he breathed harder out his nose. Sparatus slowly dragged his length out but didn’t lose contact with Novius’ tongue. He had to blink away the flash of desire that clouded his vision along the edges and blurred his focus. He slid back into the boy’s mouth equally as slow as he had pulled out, this time urging his head to follow the movement.

_Fuck. …Damn it._

Novius’ eyes fluttered closed and he moaned when Sparatus hit the back of his throat again, the vibration travelling into the older man’s body and causing the cock to twitch on his tongue.

“Keep your eyes open.” Sparatus ordered, quietly panting. “Don’t take them off mine.”

Hands wrapped around the side of his thighs as Novius opened his eyes again, staring into his with that particular defiance that said _ravage me, use me, hurt me_ and had Sparatus wanting to thrust into his mouth without control. But again he just dragged slowly out and then slid slowly back in, the roughness of Novius’ tongue was maddening on the underside of his dick. What made it worse (better?) was the way the boy was making his tongue undulate and how it destroyed his concentration utterly.

Sparatus knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, not if he continued to allow Novius to lead their motions. He wanted to be used? Fine. The older turian could do that though his conscience would likely bother him later. The sight of the youth on his knees with his mouth opened wide and Sparatus’ cock down his throat was intoxicating. It seemed like Novius was trying to make him lose control, whether on purpose or just by habit, Sparatus couldn’t really tell but that wasn’t going to be the way of things for much longer.

He tightened the hand under Novius’ fringe and pulled him closer while the hand on the top of his head kept him steady. Sparatus felt the youth’s mandibles brush the edges of his spread plates as he pushed his cock deeper and felt his moist breath on the flesh usually hidden behind those plates. Looking down into Novius’ eyes, he couldn’t see the gold anymore, they were swallowed by the arousal; the boy was simply lost in what they were doing. Sparatus could definitely relate to that, though he wasn’t exactly _lost_ , Novius’ mouth was just all he could focus on.

Warm and a little bit wet, the texture of his tongue just shy of too rough to be pleasurable but the collecting saliva made it bearable and even a little pleasant. Sparatus slid easily along his tongue, all the way in so that when Novius swallowed the tip of his cock was squeezed by the muscles there, all the way back out until they were hardly touching. He kept that tight grip on the back of the boy’s neck and the guiding hand on top of his head as his hips rocked leisurely back and forth. Sometimes he pulled Novius so close that his nose was scrunched up to his stomach and his mandibles were forced against his inner thighs, other times it was just the boy’s tongue that touched him. The hard, contoured roof of Novius’ mouth was a nice contrast that he could rub against when the softness of his tongue wasn’t enough.

Despite the heat and the pressure building, Sparatus kept his pace agonizingly slow. He made sure that Novius tasted every centimeter, felt every raised ridge and contour of his cock as he thrust slowly back and forth, going deeper each time. Still the boy stared up at him with his breath wafting around Sparatus and he hoped Novius was enjoying it as much as he was. The simple feeling of having his dick in his mouth, the heavy heat of it on his tongue, the flavor of Sparatus’ skin and the natural oils that covered him. Those were the things he enjoyed whenever he gave the treatment to one of his lovers but maybe that wasn’t Novius’ thing. Looking down into those eyes, Sparatus couldn’t tell, he was obviously turned on but whether because he had a cock in his mouth or he _enjoyed that_ he had a cock in his mouth.

Novius’ hands grasped the back of his thighs and pulled his lower body in close. His face pressed into Sparatus’ stomach and the pleased hum that rumbled up and out of him to send the most amazing vibrations through his shaft was all the answer he needed. The particular pitch of that purr and the tones underneath it were hard to fake. Then one of the youth’s hands laid across Sparatus’ lower back, again pulling him closer and deeper. He could feel Novius struggling to breathe out of his nose and his throat contracting as he gagged just a little.

Sparatus liked the sensation of being deep in the boy’s mouth, his throat stretched around him, but he didn’t want to actively _choke_ Novius. He attempted to move away and felt talons dig into both his thigh and back. Sparatus hissed at the youth, a clear order to stop in his subharmonics but the boy just gazed up at him defiantly and with enough heat that said he enjoyed it.

The older turian warred with himself for a moment. It felt good, really good and he had to fight down the urge to _thrust_ with the same force he’d use if he were fucking the boy. Novius however, surely he wasn’t getting enough air, not with the way his nose was ground into Sparatus’ belly but he didn’t stop. He didn’t even advert his gaze when his eyes began to water around the edges, tears slipping slowly down his face; he just kept moving his mouth up and down the shaft. Novius may have been enjoying the lack of air but Sparatus had had enough and he pushed the youth off him uncaring of the talons that scored his thigh and back.

Novius gulped in several lung fills, his eyes half closed and his mandibles hanging loose. He actually seemed a little dazed, head resting back on his cowl and his full weight on his knees as he slumped down just a bit.

“You stopped me.” He was panting as he wiped excess saliva from his mouth. “Why?”

The look in his eyes had Sparatus unsure of how to reply at first but he settled for the simple truth. “I can hurt you all you want but I draw the line at suffocation Novius.”

“O-okay. Just please let me finish you this way. I want…” Novius blinked quickly as if he were gathering his thoughts or confused. "I want you to spill on my tongue. So please put your cock back in my mouth Casca, please? Let me make you cum. I want to taste you so much…”

Sparatus’ dick gave an excited twitch and pulse at the words; his body certainly agreed even if his mind or rather his conscience was troubled. The way Novius was looking at him though, full of need and desire, he discovered that he couldn’t deny the youth what he wanted.

“Fine,” He said and then continued on more gently, “Just no more of _that_.”

Novius nodded and reached for him, placing his palms exactly where they’d been. He kept a bit more space between them, he still took Sparatus deep into his mouth but not to the point of being unable to breathe again. And now the youth had much more control over his tongue. Something Sparatus definitely appreciated as it wound around him starting just where he emerged from his plates and sliding slickly all the way to the tapered head.

Sparatus returned his hands to their former position too, one gently on top of Novius’ head and the other firmly on the back of his neck. He didn’t pull the boy closer, just held and guided as he was expertly licked. All too soon Novius had him skirting along the edge of his release. Sparatus lightly slid his cock along the youth’s tongue, not exactly thrusting but rolling his hips in a measured rhythm. Novius caressed his lower back, fingers and talons tracing absent patterns while the hand on his thigh held to him securely.

So close but still so far, Sparatus grasped the base of his cock and pulled from the boy’s mouth. Novius made a disappointed hum and tried to flick his tongue against the tip but the older turian held him just out of reach. He let go of the youth’s neck for a moment to grab his jaw and force his mouth open wider. Novius, getting the idea, stuck his tongue out. Sparatus pumped up and down his length in time to the beat of his heart as he placed his free hand on the top of the youth’s head again to keep him still. Novius curled his tongue against the underside of his dick, flicked the tip against the spread seam underneath.

Sparatus knew he couldn’t take much more of that tongue’s treatment. He pumped his shaft a few more times, angling down to slap his cockhead on Novius’ tongue, each little impact sending a jolt of fire through his spine. Seconds before he crested, Sparatus rocked his hips forward and drove his dick along the youth’s tongue to the back of his throat, jerking his head tight to his stomach. He felt Novius’ mandibles flare against the hand still around his shaft as he came, spilling down the boys throat in one fiery wave after another.

“Swallow it all Novius.” He growled and moaned when the throat tightened around him and pulled out the rest of his seed. He smoothed his hand back over Novius’ fringe gently with affection. “Good boy.”

Sparatus gave the boy a moment to just catch his breath, still lightly stroking his fringe from foreplate to the tips. Novius leaned against his legs while he recovered, head resting on his stomach and arms loosely around his hips. When Sparatus thought he’d had enough time, he grabbed the ends of Novius’ fringe in one hand and his throat in the other. Gripping both tight enough to hurt, to bruise, he jerked the youth onto his feet and right against his chest. The boy made a startled sound but it was silenced as Sparatus slammed their mouths together and a more delighted rumble worked its way through his chest.

 _Spirits_ , Sparatus thought, kissing Novius harder and with more passion. _I can taste myself on him. I can taste him too, he’s sweet even with my cum staining his mouth, he’s saccharine. I could spend the rest of the night kissing him and be happy. Spirits, I don’t deserve him…Not even in this context. I shouldn’t even be touching him._

Novius pressed closer, rubbed himself against Sparatus’ still sensitive front even as he tightened both hands, a strangled moan leaving the older turian. The youth grabbed the wrist of the hand holding his throat and squeezed until he was let go, Sparatus trailed that hand lightly down his chest to undo clasps and buttons. Shirt shoved off his shoulders and tossed aside, he broke their kiss and spun the boy around until his back was firmly to his chest with that hand wrapped loosely around the base of his throat again.

“I am done playing with you.” Sparatus murmured lowly, darkly into his ear as he marched the boy toward the foot of the bed. “You want to be hurt? You want to be used? That’s happening now, Novius, no going back. The only way I’ll stop is if you use your word and then we’ll be completely done, you’ll get dressed and leave still wanting release.”

He felt the boy swallow underneath his palm, felt his pulse accelerate and his breathing shift.

“Do you still want this?” He asked.

“Fuck Casca, yes. Yes.” Subvocally Novius was already begging him and he rocked his hips back against Sparatus’ eagerly earning another of those strangled moans.

In a flurry of motion, he shoved the younger man onto the bed and then climbed over him. A hand on the back of his neck held his face flat while the other slid under his body to force open the fastenings of his pants. Certain that Novius wasn’t going to move, Sparatus shifted both hands to his hips, digging his fingers beneath the fabric of his pants until he found soft and warm skin. He lifted the youth just enough to jerk his trousers down only as far as his upper thighs, exposing his rear. Sparatus looped his arm around Novius’ waist and lined his already hard cock up with the boy’s entrance, pausing long enough to drink in the sight of him. Facedown on the bed he used for clients, arms thrown outward and hands grasping at the mattress, his hips and ass lifted to the perfect height and his spine tensed in preparation. Some dark and primal side of Sparatus’ brain declared it a simply lovely vision and his cock pulsed in agreement.

“Remember,” He whispered, grinding his hips to the youth’s ass, self-lubricated cock sliding against him. “You said not to be gentle.”

Sparatus jerked Novius’ hips back at the same time he thrust forward with all his strength, burying himself to the hilt in one go. Beneath him the youth made a high subtonal sound of pain, his smaller form fairly shaking in Sparatus’ hands, but he didn’t use his safe-word. He was tight enough for it to be painful to Sparatus but despite that he didn’t give Novius time to recover as he pulled his hips back and then slammed them forward again causing the boy to mewl in pain. Sparatus had to remind himself that Novius had told him to do this and that if he were in too much agony, he would ask to stop. He always did the things his clients paid him for, rough sex included, so taking the youth as hard as he was shouldn’t have bothered him so much. But for some reason it did.

His superior size and strength kept Novius pinned, the pants still incasing his legs prevented him the leverage of getting to his knees. Of course, with the fabric holding his legs relatively closed, it had Sparatus more or less kneeling over him, knees to either hip and shoving into him at a downward angle with his weight behind each movement. It wasn’t the ideal position but it did encourage the forcefulness Novius wanted. Sparatus wasn’t as spry as he used to be and could only be slow in this position, but that slowness just meant Novius would be hurting for longer.

And he was hurting. Every thrust from Sparatus tore a new sound of pain from him, little whimpers and quiet, breathy screams smothered by the bed. The larger turian kept going though, pushing all his length into Novius hard and deep, the head of his cock grinding into a sensitive clutch of nerves so forcefully that the boy’s cries were getting louder. It was almost too much for Sparatus to stand; he’d never enjoyed causing pain.

“Novius,” He whispered as he leaned his head down next to the youth’s. “I think I should stop. I think we should do something…less painful.”

Novius’ eyes were tightly closed, his mandibles secure to his jaw, his mouth open and panting. His expression alone spoke of the agony he was in but when he opened his eyes the only thing Sparatus saw was heat and raw need.

“No.” His subharmonics were infused with more pleasure than the older turian had ever heard from him before, an edge of desperation buried deep among the tones. “No, no I don’t want you to stop. I need this Casca, please, I need this. I’m just…I’m _stuck._ ”

“Stuck? I don’t understand.”

Novius tried to rise up on his hands but Sparatus’ size and weight held him flat. “Ah, spirits, you’re fucking heavy I can’t _open_. I can’t…it’s not…”

_Oh. OH._

Well, that hadn’t happened in a very long time. Sparatus lowered the arm still wrapped around Novius’ waist, angling his hand down between the youth’s hips. It took a little doing, there wasn’t much space between the youth and the bed but he finally got his hand in the right spot. The front of Novius’ pants still covered the majority of his groin and behind the fabric the protective plating was still closed. The seam in the middle was slick, even dripping with the boy’s arousal but the there was no way between his trousers in the way and being pressed so flat to the bed that they could open to let his dick out.

Sparatus chuckled. He knew from experience that being trapped behind your groin plates was maddening, harder than stone with nowhere to go and an urge to fuck continuously. He also knew that ‘stuck’ plating walked a very fine line of unending agony and absolute bliss.

“This…has potential.” His subharmonics were dark and heavy with intent as he gathered some of that fluid on his fingers and brought it up to lick away.

“ _Fuck._ Casca you can’t. You’ve got to let me open up. Please.”

He started to thrust again, this time he made the conscious effort to pin Novius as flat as possible. The boy squirmed underneath him but Sparatus just put more power behind his hips, slamming his cock in and grinding before dragging himself out. Out the corner of his eye he saw Novius dig his hand into the sheets, his talons tearing through the fabric like it was paper. Another, harder thrust that had his plates meeting the youth’s rear and Novius made a sound he hadn’t heard before.

“You can’t decide if it hurts or feels amazing.” It wasn’t a question because Sparatus already knew the answer. “You’re conflicted Novius. You wanted pain, but it feels _so. Spirits-damned. Good.”_

He emphasized each word with a bone-jarring thrust, going as deep as he possibly could and much harder that was comfortable for him, let alone the way it felt to Novius. Sparatus could feel each and every shudder, shiver and spasm that worked its way through the youth’s muscles and if he hadn’t been caught still in his sheath, the youth would be in the middle of a mind-numbing orgasm.

Novius tensed and went totally limp, and then tensed again. He was panting and gasping, rubbing his face against the bed as if trying to ground himself. He was also mewling and keening softly with pleasure, a faint whimper of pain was still evident in the tones. Sparatus had been right; the youth couldn’t figure out if he was being tortured or experiencing the most intense pleasure of his life.

Sparatus lowered himself until he was resting fully on the youth’s back, his legs stretching out alongside Novius’ trapped ones. He pressed his mouth to the side of the youth’s neck with a gentle hint of his teeth, biting wasn’t something he’d do here; the boy had made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t like teeth on his throat. The shift in position had all of his weight holding Novius down, the most of it centered on his lower half. Sparatus had stopped thrusting, stopped all but the smallest movements of his hips. His goal now was to put as much pressure as he could on the youth’s closed plates, maybe even add just a little bit of friction until the boy broke and begged him.

They were already close to that point. Novius’ little sounds had gotten louder and more frequent and he was trying to lift himself up. Sparatus gave a hard forward snap of his hips to discourage that and Novius threw his head back with a howl of confusing subtones. It hurt and it felt good, he wanted it to stop but he wanted more.

“Shh,” Sparatus kissed the back curve of a mandible. “Do you need me to stop?”

The question wasn’t exactly sincere and it would never be thought as such with all the tones of mischief and smug satisfaction. He would cease if the boy needed him to but Sparatus was having fun now.

Novius grunted, let go of the bedding to grab Sparatus’ hand and hold it tightly. “Fuck no Casca. Keep…Keep going.”

He gripped the boy’s hand in return, face still pressed alongside his neck and pulled his cock all most all the way out. Novius’ body tried to follow him, his spine arching and his hips lifting the slightest amount in search of him but he barely managed a few inches. It was enough space for Sparatus to slip his free hand back under the boy and between his thighs. He held the slick plating in his palm, curling his fingers down until he actually felt them brushing where he was shoved into Novius. The youth howled again, bucking as much as he was able but Sparatus held on, the pressure from his hand was more maddening than the closed plating itself.  Soon Novius was trying to push himself more firmly into the older turian’s palm, trying to match the slow but hard thrusts of the cock inside him.

Sparatus’ hand was soaked with the fluid of turian arousal, he was even finding it a little difficult to keep his grip firmly between Novius’ thighs. He was getting closer to his second peak, the tightness of the boy, the wetness on his hand, the talons cutting into the palm still gripped by Novius, the force of his thrusts…It was all building and building until it was beginning to burn and overwhelm, he was able to push it down but just barely. He wanted the youth cumming before he did. Novius was surprisingly stubborn, holding on with more will than Sparatus had known he hand.

It was another of those things the older man had learned how to manipulate and not during his time as just a Councilor. He licked a slow path from the back of the youth’s mandible down over his pulse, groaning into the skin as he struck deeply inside.

“Oh, my sweet Novius,” He purred in his lowest, most suggestive tones, letting his breathing sound harsh and out of control. “You were made to be fucked by me. You were made to take my cock deep in your ass.”

Sparatus wasn’t usually so vulgar but he knew what these softly whispered kinds of words could do to a man’s resolved. Novius was no different from other’s he’d tried this tactic on. The boy moaned, writhing under him and held between pleasure and pain.

“I could fuck you for days,” Sparatus continued, slowing his thrusts until he was simply rocking into the boy. “I could keep you on your knees for hours, my dick down your throat. Or I could bend you over my table and slam into you over and over again until you scream. I could pull you on top and let you ride me until neither of us can move. Or…I could just keep _taking_ you like I am now. Mercilessly and without pause, I won’t stop until you beg me to, maybe not even then. It feels so good to fuck you, my sweet Novius.”

He squeezed his hand down on the plating between the youth’s thighs, felt just a little bit of give to the cartilage and wondered if he could force them apart without letting the boy’s cock emerge. Novius made a low sound, his muscles shivering under Sparatus’ body and his pulse racing against his mouth.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” He said breathlessly and clenched his body around Sparatus’ drawing out a stifled groan. “I want to cum Casca, but I can’t, not with you holding me closed and not on my stomach. I need more room, please can we shift just a little? Find a different position?”

It was a reasonable enough request, Sparatus’ back was getting tired anyway. And whatever Novius was up to, if anything, he knew he still possessed all the control.

“As much as I enjoy being ridden,” Sparatus murmured. “I’m not letting you do that tonight.”

Novius moaned, attempting to rock back against him. “Ah, I don’t want to ride you. I fucking like having you on top of me, holding me down, it feels good… But you’re still damned heavy.”

Sparatus conceded the point, knowing that he probably outweighed Novius by quite a bit. He let go of the boy’s hand and wrapped both his arms around his too thin waist, pulling them firmly together as he rolled them onto their sides. Sparatus managed to stay buried in the youth despite the movement, immediately putting one hand back over Novius’ plating to hold him closed even though he’d given the youth room to…expand.

Novius moaned loudly, shuddering in his grasp. “Spirits Casca. I thought you were going to let me-“

“I’ve decided I enjoy you like this.” He could feel the youth’s erection trying to push out from the plating and he just added more pressure with the heel of his palm, massaging firmly with his fingers. “Do you think I can make you cum still plated?”

The youth squirmed in Sparatus’ arms, the top of his head bumping his chin. “Fuck I d-don’t…I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Sparatus leaned down until his mouth was parallel with the side of the youth’s throat and the pulse that thundered under the thin flesh. “Do you want to try?”

Novius’ breath sped up at the implication and he could see the youth turning the idea over in his head. Then after a few seconds the boy settled against his chest, head back to give Sparatus a clear line of sight down his torso and grabbed onto the arm still wrapped around his waist.

“G-go for it.” Novius didn’t sound completely sure but he trusted that the youth knew his limits.

Sparatus shifted his position again, sliding the arm he was lying on under Novius’ side and between his legs to take the place of his right hand which he then placed on the boy’s hip. He pushed a knee between the youth’s thighs but was prevented from sliding it higher by the pants still in the way. Sparatus almost stopped and took the time to remove them but the thought of Novius being trapped and unable to resist was intoxicating. Probably more than it should be if he were honest with himself.

Then Novius leaned back against Sparatus and rolled his hips to start the older man moving again. He was panting irregularly. “Oh spirits would you just stop _teasing_ and _fuck_ me?” His subharmonics were near frantic with desire and there was a low sound under his words that screamed his need.

Sparatus sighed dramatically and wrapped his arm around the boy. “If that’s what you want.”

It was about that time that Novius twisted in his grasp, angled his head back and licked under his chin with a subvocal _order_ to be fucked immediately. Sparatus had a not-so-secret kink, not quite a fetish but close to it, he loved to be ordered by his bed partners and especially when they held no rank over him. To hear Novius, who was a good twenty-plus-years his junior use the same commanding tone _his_ captain in basic had used, well, it set a fire in his blood the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a long time. He used the hand between Novius’ thighs to anchor the boy to his hips as he shoved them forward hard enough to rock their bodies and they almost ended up face-down on the bed again.

Novius chuckled lowly and gave the underside of his jaw another slow lick. His breathing hot, damp and ragged as his hand clamped down onto the forearm across his stomach. Sparatus began a slow rhythm of in and out, his hips meeting the flesh of Novius’ rear firmly as he pushed deeper with every hard thrust. He could feel the boy shifting, straining at the fabric that trapped his legs from mid-thigh to ankle and just trying to get free. A shift of his own leg allowed Sparatus to pin one of Novius’ to the bed and to put an end to his anxious squirming.

The boy groaned, the sound travelling up through his chest and reverberating into Sparatus as he increased his pace by degrees. He began to gently stroke back and forth over the plating of Novius’ groin, leisurely tracing the slit at the center with the tip of one finger. The youth started to fidget in his arms again, trying to both move away and move toward Sparatus’ hand.

Novius groaned again, hips bucking in a way that sent Sparatus’ cock deep inside him. A strong shudder racked his too thin frame. “Casca,” His voice was a sound of pure need. _”Please, please, oh please,”_

The boy’s talons were digging into his arm and he twisted his head back again. Sparatus stopped all movement when Novius’ open mouth landed on his throat, he felt the edge of teeth and wondered if the boy was about to bite him for the first time. The youth reached back and wound his arm around Sparatus’ neck, mouth still pressed tightly to his skin. Novius started rocking his hips, building back to the cadence the larger man had set minutes ago. Sparatus matched his movements eagerly.

”Please, please, Casca pl-please,” He felt the sting of teeth and shaking mandibles as the boy arched against him. “I-I need…need you…’m c-close. I need just…a little more…”

The youth grabbed for the hand still between his legs, covered it with his own and shoved down, snapping his hips into the touch. Sparatus allowed the increase of fiction, a sound rumbling through him as the boy’s plates finally spread open. Novius trembled all over, just shy of actually convulsing with relief as his cock descended from its sheath and slid into Sparatus’ waiting palm.

He had barely closed his hand around the thick shaft, only just registered the _heat_ of it but that was all it took to push the boy to his peak and send him tumbling over it with a sharp gasp. Novius strained against him in a new fashion, his body so oversensitive that he had multiple orgasms with a single touch, muscles tightening and releasing around Sparatus as he came over and over again. The boy was soaring and utterly overcome by bliss. He shook and trembled in Sparatus’ grasp before finally growing still and limp. Novius’ chest heaved as he breathed in great laboring pants, as if he’d been drowning and had only just surfaced. Sparatus fought down his own impending release and forced his hips to stop thrusting into the boy’s pliant form. It took a startling amount of effort; the spasms that had rocked the youth’s body had him teetering on the edge dangerously.

“T-that was amazing,” A final shudder racked the boy’s frame and tested Sparatus’ resolve. “B-best I’ll ever h-h-have…”

He just nodded, ignoring Novius’ odd wording and stammering. _He’s just worn out, I’d be too if I’d experienced what he did. Spirits._  His hand was covered and nearly dripping with the boy’s seed. Sparatus carefully let go of him and wiped his hand on the sheet, trying to move as little as possible even though he was still buried deep and so close to his own rapture that his every nerve was vibrating. Novius leaned fully against him and his muscles seemed to relax all at once. Sparatus glanced down and found the boy’s eyes closed, his mandibles resting lightly along his jaw while he breathed slow and even.

“Novius?” He didn’t answer; either asleep or unconscious.

Sparatus let his chin rest on top of the boy’s fringe and spent a moment trying to get his urges under control. It was a wasted effort; his cock pulsed inside Novius and his hips rocked forward on reflex, tearing a lustful growl from his throat. He needed to cum, preferably inside the boy and as deeply as possible. Sparatus allowed himself another slow and easy thrust, hips meeting Novius’ ass as he slid far inside… and felt the boy shift limply on the bed.

“Novius?” He tried again a little bit louder and still got no response. “Damn it boy,”

He meant it good-naturedly but being so close to cumming and inside Novius’ inactive body was…frustrating to say the least. Sparatus shifted until he could lean his head on the back of the boy’s neck, taking in the smell of his pheromones and giving an absentminded purr. Despite his need he was comfortable with Novius sleeping in his arms but that sense of wellbeing didn’t diminish the fact that he needed to find his completion soon. Sparatus rocked into the youth again, still slow and easy and felt his stomach tighten with distaste.

_Spirits this is wrong, he’s asleep; he can’t tell me to stop. I should stop, I need to stop; this is practically molestation. What’s more wrong is that I don’t want to stop. He feels wonderful and he’s so warm and so tight. Novius, sweet boy, what are you doing to me?_

Sparatus angled his hips back and slipped slowly out of the youth, savoring the way Novius’ body didn’t seem to want to let him go. He didn’t move far away, allowing no more than a scant few inches to come between them. He could still feel the warmth of the boy’s skin on his own even in the areas where they didn’t touch. Sparatus pulled his arm out from under Novius and wrapped the same hand he’d used to stroke him around his own shaft. He groaned at the slick residue that still covered his palm.

He began to caress himself slowly from the base up, his grip loose but getting firmer after a few passes. Novius’ scent was in his nose, so deep in his sinuses that it felt like his brain was floating on it. Sparatus’ flesh tingled where they touched in a vaguely unpleasant way and he paused. If he was more honest with himself, it was _too_ pleasant. He moved back from the boy and rolled onto his back, his hand resuming its up and down path with more vigor.

That certain heat and pressure began building again, growing in intensity until Sparatus felt blanketed by electricity and his need felt like a weight pressing down on his chest. He thrust into his hand, giving the root of his shaft a hard squeeze and keeping the grip as he followed through on his length. A groan tore from his throat and he bucked as his dick pulsed and swelled.

Sparatus glanced over at Novius beside him while he coaxed his release to the surface. The boy looked good laying there, his sand-colored plates a nice contrast to the dark sheets and his body relaxed in sleep, his pants still bunched up around his upper thighs. Sparatus would have to change that, take them off completely so the youth would be more comfortable but not right now. He enjoyed the tantalizing view it gave him of soft flesh and an impeccably shaped ass that had felt just perfect pressed into the space between Sparatus’ hips. A low growl left his mouth at he gazed at the boy, clamping down on the sudden urge to roll back over and shove himself deep into that ass he so enjoyed.

 _Spirits,_ He thought, increasing the pace of his hand and thrusting into the friction. _Just a little more and I can…_

His mouth opened in a silent scream as his senses caught fire and his synapses burned, bathing his every single nerve in an intense white heat. Sparatus’ spine bowed almost painfully and he curled in on himself. Or he thought he did, but when his vision cleared it was Novius he was wrapped around, his spent cock pressed firmly to the boy’s rear and the result of his orgasm spread across his lower back.

Sparatus nearly laughed; all the effort of trying to distance himself from the boy and he had ended up humping him in the throes of his release anyway. A primal part of his brain hummed in satisfaction at seeing his cum _on_ Novius rather than _in_ him. He lingered against the youth, one hand idly petting his short fringe and the sensitive area under the spines. It was several minutes before his breathing and heart-rate regulated and Sparatus rolled onto his back again. There was no telling how long Novius would sleep, for a few more moments or for the rest of the night.

He pulled up the display of his omni-tool and checked the state of his accounts. Sparatus found the youth’s name easily, again the boy was the only client to use his real name. But it was the number adjacent from the boy’s name that gave him pause; it simply couldn’t be correct. There was more than twenty-times his asking rate, in fact the amount of recently deposited credits was equal to a years’ worth of the average persons’ salary. He read it multiple times and still didn’t comprehend.

_…Novius Ralix has deposited ninety-five thousand credits into your account…_

Sparatus gave the sleeping boy a surprised glance. He remembered his earlier feeling of wrongness when he’d first found the boy in his room. The unprecedented amount of money suddenly in the relief fund was only evidence to the matter.

 _What in the Spirits’ names has he done?_ And then: _Where would he even get money like that?_

It was more than just Novius’ strange behavior at the beginning of their encounter, there were several things about the youth that rubbed Sparatus’ instincts the wrong way today. The boy had always been honest with him, at least he thought so, but they had only had one long conversation that didn’t revolve completely around sex. Sparatus had thought he had a good mental impression of the youth all the same...  But that was a lot of money and there was no way Novius had come by it through honest means.

He looked down at the sleeping boy again, his insides twisting and knotting with suspicion. Novius hadn’t actually fought during the Reaper War; he was a simple engineer with a knack for all things technical. Sparatus knew he had been on one of the many crews assigned to the Crucible. He’d had access to all sorts of equipment and experimental tech.... maybe Novius had stolen and sold some of it when they were all scrambling to get everything under control again.

Sparatus physically shook the thought away as it didn’t correspond with his view of the youth at all. It left him with few plausible options and the only two he could come up with made him feel almost ill. Option one was that Novius was a merc, perhaps even with one of the larger gangs like Eclipse or the Blue Suns and the money was his share of a larger amount. That still didn’t fit Novius’ personality; he was too earnest and kind. Sparatus wasn’t sure the boy had it in him to kill in cold blood.

Which left him with the last option.  If he took the youth’s odd behavior, stuttering over words and overly wide pupils into account… Perhaps Novius was dealing drugs and had dipped into his own product? It explained both the money and his strange request earlier in the night. It was…possible despite the difficult time Sparatus had believing it and, he admitted to himself, it was the most likely scenario. Or perhaps he just didn’t _want_ to believe it.

_Is that why he asked me to hurt him? Does he feel guilty about something?_

There was a way Sparatus could find out but it was a serious breach of privacy. He debated for long moments, the fingers of one hand hovering over his omni-tool as he tried to justify the use of an admittedly illicit facial recognition program. The citadel had done its best to keep track of the refugees to board the station during the war and as councilor Sparatus had access to every file.

It was a betrayal of the youth’s trust but Novius was obviously overusing his drug of choice and it wouldn’t be long until it began to effect more than his private life.  Sparatus paused to take a good long look at the boy and started to see the extent of his condition that he hadn't been able to before between the surprise of his unwanted return and the veil of arousal.

Novius was far too thin.  Not lanky or slender but scrawny like he’d lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time, his skin stretched taut over his frame. His eyes appeared sunken in their sockets and the surrounding flesh was much darker than it should be; he likely wasn’t sleeping much or well when he did. His mandibles hung loose and trembled faintly even in sleep. Whatever drug Novius was taking- and Sparatus was sure he was taking something- it was causing him to deteriorate.

 _I’m doing it for his own good,_ Sparatus told himself and scanned the youth’s face with his omni-tool. It a just a few minutes he would know everything there was to know about Novius Ralix.

Less than five minutes passed before Sparatus’ omni-tool beeped to let him know the program had finished its search. In the meantime he cleaned the mess from Novius’ lower back and righted the youth’s pants carefully before he retrieved his own. Trepidation was heavy in his stomach and he really didn’t want to be naked or see the youth’s bare body while he was vulnerable with sleep any longer. He took one more thorough look at the boy and felt his concern build and multiply. A single keystroke had Novius’ entire history open to him from his date of birth to his marks in basic training and all the way to the transactions he’d made during the day.

He wasn’t sure where to start looking or what he was really looking for so he began with Novius’ family. He learned the boy was born on Xerceo, an only child to two generals, both of whom had apparently died on Palaven at the start of the Reaper War leaving him with no other family. It seemed that as a teenager Novius had possessed quite the temper and had gotten into more than a few physical altercations outside of the sparring ring. In fact he had several disciplinary notes in his file but they abruptly stopped at the age of sixteen when as punishment, Novius was transferred to the Engineering Corps. After that there was nothing but praise; he’d finally found what he was meant to do, the thing he was good at.

Sparatus’ attention was diverted for a moment when Novius shifted toward him in his sleep and tucked up against his side, draping an arm over his waist before seeming to settle. He _almost_ reached out and traced that line of orange across the boy’s nose but managed to change direction at the last second to give a passing caress to his short fringe. It was a far less intimate act, for turians touching another’s colony tats was a very personal gesture and not casual in the least.

 _That’s the problem about Novius,_ Sparatus mused as he turned his focus back to the information on his omni-tool. _He makes me forget myself._

A moment of careful reading and he didn’t find any mention of drug use in Novius’ personnel file, not during his time at bootcamp or later in the Engineering Corps. The possibility of the youth being an addict dwindled, however his medical record would show if he had ever used. But again Sparatus found nothing that suggested Novius had ever used any kind of substance. At least, nothing he wasn’t prescribed-

 _That can’t be right…_ He thought as he came across a medication the boy had apparently been taking for the last ten months. _Surely it’s a mistake, the file must be corrupted._ But a thorough inspection into Novius’ family history showed him otherwise; nearly every generation had been affected by the condition

Sparatus felt his brain stall as he read the same two words again and again and then a few more times as the meaning finally began to sink in. Those words were a nightmare that devastated far too many turian families even though it was uncommon until much later in life. Looking down at Novius pressed against him, Sparatus knew he could never have guessed the truth. It was unimaginable, unheard of but…

_It can’t be right, it’s not even possible, he’s far too young… The stuttering, his pupils, the tremors of his mandibles and the unusual behavior… oh spirits, oh spirits._

His heart gave a vicious spasm in his chest, so powerful that his breath was stolen away. No longer stuck in neutral Sparatus’ mind raced as he tried to make sense of what he’d read and what little he’d noticed from Novius that matched. Five months ago, when they’d met that first time, the boy had seemed perfectly fine. Had he been hiding his illness?

 _Obviously he was…_ Sparatus flicked his wrist to close his omni-tool in an almost inattentive way, he’d learned all he could stomach and all he’d needed to at any rate.

He fell back on his elbow next to Novius as his tense muscles gave out all at once, suddenly unsure of everything, of his inner emotions other than a fog of confusion and a feeling of surreal-ness.

 _This is why…_ Sparatus found that his mouth was uncomfortably dry and barren but he had no inclination to fix that. _This is a perfect example of why you shouldn’t get attached._

But it didn’t stop him from pulling Novius to his chest and holding him there, or the pit of despair that opened up inside him. Denial swarmed around in that pit as he tried to tell himself that the boy’s illness wasn’t the only thing that could manifest the symptoms he had seen or explain away the unusual behavior. Drugs obviously weren’t the cause like he’d originally thought-

 _Spirits I though he…_ He couldn’t even finish the sentence in his head the guilt of it was so profound that it stung like a shallow wound, Sparatus felt horrible for even thinking what he had. Hundreds of reasons tumbled around in his mind, the first and foremost repeated; Novius was too young. And a more visceral reason wormed its way in: it wasn’t spirits’ damned fair.

Sparatus let his chin rest atop the youth’s foreplate, his mandibles tight to his jaw as he waited for the younger man to wake. Nerves kept him from going in too deep a doze but he did manage to rest his eyes for a little while. Less than half an hour later the boy was stirring in his arms, his grip dropping from Sparatus’ waist as he rolled onto his back. Novius made a few sleepy sounds, a slow breath and gentle sigh followed by a quiet hum of contentment but he didn’t wake fully.

Another dilemma surfaced as Sparatus wondered just how he was going to confront the boy on his deception. And it wasn’t even a true deception but something a bit closer to omission though in all fairness there was nothing inherently wrong with that, turians minded their own business. Usually, but Novius had wormed his way past Sparatus’ defenses without even trying to despite his efforts to counter that. It was the precise reason he’d told the boy not to come back after his first visit, it wasn’t love but Sparatus did feel a deep affection.

Beside him the youth stretched, another series of sleepy noises leaving him as his head lolled on the pillow. Sparatus needed proof of the youth’s illness other than what was written in the file, he knew for a fact that documents could be fabricated and contain levels upon levels of misinformation. He needed proof and he decided to…test one of the more telling symptoms.

Before Novius woke fully, Sparatus covered him with his body and dipped his head to lick a stripe down his throat. He felt the hum of pleasure before he heard it, his mouth climbing up the boy’s neck with exceedingly gentle nips, mindful of the fact that biting wasn’t something Novius enjoyed or appreciated. A second pleased hum vibrated through the youth into Sparatus as he reached the edge of a slender mandible and the two little spines at the tip.

Novius gave a subvocal trill of eager acceptance, his legs falling open so that Sparatus could fit between them comfortably. One of the boy’s hands came up and wrapped around the back of his neck to find that sensitive spot just under his fringe and pull him forward until their mouths met. Moments passed before Sparatus broke off the kiss, the need to breathe overwhelming.

Sparatus rocked himself against Novius, biting back the groan of desire as the youth’s legs wrapped around the back of his own. He kept his subharmonics as impassive as possible. “Do I still have your permission?”

The boy arched under him just a little, grinding their hips together. “My permission for what?”

Again Sparatus swallowed the tones that would give him away. “To hurt you.”

Novius’ eyes opened then, dark gold irises still overcome by the black of his pupils until it was just a sliver of color. Sparatus knew they were heavily dilated due to the excess blood flow, he could even feel it, the way Novius’ heart pounded in his chest although he was at rest.

“Hurt me?” The confusion in the youth’s tones was genuine. “Why would I want you to hurt me?”

Sparatus recalled a sentence that had stuck with him when he’d been reading Novius’ medical record. The symptom he had been testing for. _Patient experiences temporary short-term memory loss upon waking that last no longer than ten minutes._

He rolled onto his side, taking the boy with him and holding him tightly to his front, a hand at the back of his head forcing his face to Sparatus’ throat. A sound of despair worked its way out of his chest as he rested his jaw alongside Novius’ fringe. He couldn’t hold the agony, the feeling of unfairness inside much longer even as Novius lightly squirmed in his arms.

“You poor boy,” He whispered and kissed the youth’s foreplate in a gesture that was more familiar than he had any right to. “You poor sweet boy.”

“Casca?” Novius asked, a new unnamable tone to his voice.

“I know Novius,” Another whisper, this one far softer. “I know you have Corpalis Syndrome.”

Novius went utterly still. “Let go of me.” He ordered lowly and Sparatus obeyed without hesitation.

The boy didn’t exactly scramble away from him but no time was wasted as he moved to sit against the headboard and wrapped his arms protectively around his knees, hands gripping his elbows so tightly that he could see the sandy color of his knuckles getting paler. Sparatus sat up but didn’t move any closer, silently giving Novius the space he needed. The boy breathed in and out through his nose, each breath losing its harshness as he attempted to calm down bit by bit.

“How do you know?” The youth asked and his voice was hoarse, it’s dual tones shaky and strained as he tried to control them.

There was no sense in hiding his…transgression. “I looked into your personal files.  Your medical record was included.”

Novius shot him a glare and while he didn’t _quite_ growl his subharmonics were barbed.  “You _what?_ How dare you-"

“I was concerned.” Sparatus interjected quickly.

“Concerned!” He flinched back from the anger in the boy’s voice. “Fuck you, you were _concerned_ ! You had no fucking right Casca! You’re just a wh-“

“I suggest you don’t finish that sentence young man.” Sparatus looked at him sharply, his mandibles pulling tight to his face as he fought the urge to hiss and his tone dropped in warning at the youth’s lack of respect for him and not just his current profession. It may not be the best solution or the most favorable but he was assisting the Hierarchy in ways other than political.

This time Novius did growl, subharmonics low and intimidating. “Do _not_ talk to me like you’re my fucking father.”

Despite the fierceness of his tone and the anger in his eyes there was a vulnerability in the way he sat, shoulders hunched and thin arms gripped around his knees defensively. Sparatus let a few moments pass in silence, watching the youth closely and trying to spot all the things he’d missed. It was obvious to him, now at least, that Novius was ill and he wondered how he could have missed it.

 _He had you too hard to think. He probably counted on it, face it, you were played._  

Betraying Novius’ trust had appeared logical, it had even seemed like the right thing to do at the time but now…Sparatus just felt guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders and his individual spirit. Private was private and no one cared about the off-hours as long as a turian did their duty. Perhaps if he hadn’t checked his accounts in the first place he wouldn’t be in quite the same situation he was now, maybe he still wouldn’t know about Novius’ illness. Sparatus didn’t like the thought; knowing about the sickness didn’t make him feel any different about the boy and he already felt too much. He admitted to himself that he didn’t think of the boy as a client any more, not when the youth inspired feelings of worry and affection…

“I’m sorry.” Sparatus said eventually. He folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them; he had only wanted to help and now things were spiraling out of his control like they constantly seemed to do. “What I did was wrong but I sincerely was concerned for you.”

The boy shrugged, a sigh of defeat left him as he visibly relaxed, arms loosening and shoulders dropping. “I’m sorry I almost called you a whore, I wouldn’t have meant it but I’m still sorry…. Why-what made you even look?”

“The credits you deposited.”

“The credits.” The youth repeated, deadpan.

“The amount was significant and…it made me suspicious.”

Novius turned to glare at him, his mandibles fluttering irritably before snapping to his jaw with an audible noise as he got control of the quivering muscles. “I just bet it did.”

“I truly am sorry Nov-“

“I really, really don’t care Casca.” The boy muttered before giving a sudden shaky chuckle. “Remember how I said I’d never live it down if I asked one of my friends?”

Sparatus nodded quietly.

“Well,” Another self-deprecating laugh that sounded like crunching gravel. “I did. I asked my closest friend to use me, to hurt me like I asked you to. And the look she gave me? Like-like she _pitied_  me an-and then she wouldn’t do it!” He leaned forward, his eyes wide and turbulent with emotion as he pulled his knees in closer, arms so tight around himself that they quivered with the tension. “She took me to bed and touched me like I was the most fragile- like I was already broken!”

He did not yell but his voice had gotten steadily louder as he went on. Fury, frustration and utter misery twisted amongst each other in his subharmonics, none able to fully take over.  "I don’t want that,” He continued with the same vehemence in his primary tone. “I don’t _fucking need_  that! I tried to ex-expl-explain b-but n-nothing I s-said m-made s-s-sense!”

As Novius got more and more distraught his ability to clearly form words, to stop the stammering and the slight slur got worse until he had to force out every syllable. Sparatus made as if to lay his hand on a too-thin shoulder only to have it smacked away with a lightning fast reflex as talons scored the underside of his wrist but did not draw blood. Novius seemed surprised, even shocked that he’d lashed out and he actually shrank back from Sparatus, curling in on himself as if afraid - as if he _expected_ to be struck.

Sparatus swallowed down a lump of discomfort at the sight... he would never hurt the boy without his permission, and for Novius to think that he would...  He reached out again much slower this time, making sure he saw the hand moving closer. Novius' shoulder trembled under his palm even as the rest of him went stiff, hands tightening on his own elbows as he pressed his face to his knees and took a long shuddering breath. Sparatus could see him trying to calm himself down and he waited patiently at his side.

“I can’t…” Novius lifted his head and uncurled from his protective hunker, running both hands over his short fringe a few times before rubbing at his eyes. “I know I’m not going to be _me_ much longer. I didn’t tell you Casca because I didn’t- I don’t want you looking at me with pity. I don’t want you treating me different because…because right now I am still me.”

Remaining carefully, achingly slow, Sparatus put his arm around Novius’ shoulders and pulled him into a loose embrace. Given the youth’s anger moments before, he fully expected to be shoved away and again be lectured on how he was treating the boy differently already. He certainly didn’t expect Novius to practically spring forward and wrap himself around Sparatus’ middle or his grip to be so secure. Then Novius was tucking the top of his head under his jaw and making a soft sound of distress that bordered on absolute hopelessness with a small undercurrent of fear. Sparatus hugged him closer, felt warmth fan over his throat as the boy took rapid hitching breaths. At some point Novius’ grasp loosened but the youth didn’t move away, he only shifted to lean his weight against Sparatus’ front. As if from a great distance, he heard the boy softly cooing to himself, the sound one normally used to soothe a panicked child and he felt a pang of vicious sympathy for him. Sparatus made his own approximation of the noise (he’d never had to before) and started to run his hand again and again over the short spines of Novius’ fringe, offering what little comfort he could.

“It’s tragically funny,” Novius said a minute later and his voice still held that tendril of fear. “I survive the Reaper War only to die from a disease that hits less than two percent of the population.”

Sparatus said nothing for a few breaths, keeping his attention on the soothing motions of his hands, one on Novius’ fringe and the other resting just above the slope of his rear with his fingers moving in small circles. He found that he was comfortable there with the boy nearly sitting in his lap, head jammed up under his chin almost desperately with his scrawny arms wrapped around his waist. 

“You’re so young,” He said as if to himself. “CS shouldn’t have even touched you for another forty or fifty years.”

“I know,” The youth murmured into his throat. “It was little things at first. Like forgetting the code to my parents’ apartment or how to spell my name... My focus had begun to slip no matter what I worked on; I had been putting things together with backwards pieces. And then, one morning I saw myself in a mirror and didn’t recognize my own face. I knew something was really wrong with me then. My parents were…devastated doesn’t even cover it.”

“When was this?” He asked.

Novius’ arms squeezed around his middle and he pressed his face more firmly against Sparatus’ throat, like he was trying to climb into him. “A month before Taetrus went dark.”

 _Spirits, he’s only known for thirteen months._ “I wasn’t aware the disease spread so quickly.”

Another of those mirthless, bitter and gravelly sounding laughs shook the boy’s frame. “It doesn’t. The first symptoms take years to manifest in the elderly but… The doctors don’t know why it’s progressing so fast in me. I’m the youngest case ever recorded Casca.” The boy seemed to literally choke down a sharp keen of despair. “I-if I m-make it to my t-t-twenty-first year it will be a m-mira-miracle.” 

Sparatus did not know what to do or what he should say in this situation. He didn’t want Novius to think he was being pitied or worse, that Sparatus thought him weak but he wanted to offer comfort and perhaps even a sense of security.

“Do you have everything you need?”

Novius nodded against his throat. “Mom and dad left me everything, they liquidated more than ninety percent of their estate before I started getting worse. They made sure I’d…that I’d never want for anything.” He chuckled, this time warmly if a little wistfully. “Well, I had always wanted a little brother or sister but that never happened.”

Sparatus chuckled, latching onto the lighter subject. “A younger brother or sister is not as fun as it sounds. And one of each is horrendous.”

“You have siblings?”

“Yes,” He said. “They were twins, younger than I by eleven years.”

“Did…” Novius paused. “Did they live through the war?”

“My sister did.” Sparatus answered quietly. Everyone in the galaxy had lost a loved one, some were just luckier than others.

“Oh…I’m sorry.”

He hummed an acknowledgment, his subtones ambiguous. Normally Sparatus wouldn’t share something so personal as the details of his family, it was safer that way. In fact, he did his best to keep his private life close to the vest, as the humans said. He’d already known, however, that Novius had gotten past his defenses easily. Whether it was his youth, his sincerity, that refreshing naivety of his or just the way he felt under Sparatus’ hands, the boy meant far more to him than he should. And he wasn’t as bothered by it as he knew he should be.

Then Novius was pushing him back, hands to either side of his keel bone as he looked up at Sparatus, his golden eyes imploring. “Can we talk about or do something else please?”

Sparatus noticed that the youth sounded a little bit shy, as if he were nervous about asking for something directly. Odd because Novius had always been straightforward. He’d never hesitated to ask anything, not even that first night when he had boldly requested to bend Sparatus over the desk in the corner of the room….

 _He’s certain that you’ll treat him differently now that you know he’s dying._ A part of Sparatus’ brain whispered insidiously. _In fact, you already are. Holding him like this, petting his fringe, and cooing to him? Spirits, the boy has gotten you wrapped around his finger. And…you like it. …I like it…_

He gave Novius a salacious smile and slid out of his arms to the side of the bed, easily getting to his feet. “Of course.” He said, holding out his hand. “Come,”

“Where are you…?”

“To my personal bed,” He said. “This is the bed I use for clients and you dear boy are no longer a client.”

Novius’ eyes narrowed even as he grasped Sparatus’ hand. “I told you I don’t want to be treated any differently.”

He didn’t falter, pulling the boy to his feet and against his chest. “It’s a horrible fate, your illness, but it’s not pity I feel for you Novius.”

The youth’s eyes were still narrowed. “And what’s that?”

Sparatus reached up with the opposite hand and lightly, so lightly brushed the back of his fingers along the lower edge of Novius’ mandible. When the boy didn’t immediately jerk his head away he let his hand continue down the side of that sandy neck without touching it and gently rested it on one shoulder. Half-lidded eyes held his stare, inquisitive with a hint of challenge.

“Is it so hard to believe I want to remember how you look spread out in _my_ bed?” He whispered in his lowest, most heated and suggestive tones. “I want to know what you look like covered in our sweat and my seed. I want to see you sleeping satisfied in the place that is _mine_.”

Novius blinked once slowly and then his slender mandibles flared outward in an equally suggestive manner. “Casca,” Blatant desire flooded the young man’s subharmonics.

“Marcian. My name is Marcian.”

 

+_-_-_-_-_+

Some days it was like he wasn’t even sick. Days when he was completely lucid and self-sufficient. Days when he remembered his parents were dead. And then there were days when he _wasn’t_ and he _didn’t_ , those were the worst. When the few friends he still had left, those that had survived and those that had stuck around, had to help him remember so many things that should never have been forgotten. Novius knew he was a burden to them and he was both sorry and ashamed. Currently he had more good days than bad but he wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to last.

Then…there was Casca. Or rather the man he’d thought of as Casca who he now knew was actually called Marcian. A name that fit him much better in Novius’ opinion. It certainly cemented the mental construct he’d been building since their first night together; a powerful man, bold and strict but still fair. _Casca_ was the professional persona that had imprisoned his head while he’d thrust into his throat. The one that had held him down on the bed and…

Novius now knew it hadn’t only been Casca he’d played with before. That is to say he knew it wasn’t the professional persona that had kept him trapped behind his plates and balanced _perfectly_ between pleasure he’d never known before and agony that left him writhing. It was _Marcian_ that had almost made him cum while still in his sheath. Spirits, the relief, the _pain_ of finally being allowed to cum… release after release was yanked out of him until his consciousness had slipped away. Novius had never experienced anything on the same scale.

Marcian was the man that lowered him gently to a bed covered with dark turian-made sheets and blankets. The man that kissed Novius like he was starved for the taste of another’s mouth and touched like he was seeing with his fingertips and trying to take everything in. Marcian was the one that nibbled oh so gently on the side of his neck and stayed gentle even when, despite his dislike for the action, Novius pressed his throat closer for more.

The older man didn’t stop there, his mouth continuing down over the smooth plates of Novius’ chest all the way to his bare waist and stomach. The only thing that kept him from bucking up was Marcian’s hands encircling his hips and he could feel the heat of them through the fabric of his trousers. Novius shivered when the dark mahogany colored man licked a path from one side of his waist to the other, his tongue slipping just underneath the cloth before darting away.

A subvocal whisper reached his ears. _Be patient, I’m here and I’ve got you._

Novius managed a single, encouraging roll of his hips when Marcian shifted his hands underneath his back. But when the man grabbed the edge of his pants, he was jerked back to the bed and his upper legs were pinned by Marcian’s much wider shoulders. The dim light of his personal room shown off his intricate white colony markings and dark green eyes, from Novius’ supine position he seemed almost ethereal.

Another lick low on his belly had him shivering again, reaching desperately for the older man and grasping the first thing his hands encountered. It just happened to be Marcian’s fringe and his eyes were drawn to the stripe of ivory on the centermost spine.

_Fuuuck,_

Novius’ head fell back and he let himself go limp against the arm underneath him. There was something visually filthy about the line that started just under the foreplate and stretched the length of the spine, all the way to the very tip.  Those particular types of markings had always reminded him of the turian endowment.  It was a mental image he’d never been able to discard no matter how hard he tried. Novius found himself grinning as he ran his thumb over that stripe; it was almost as long as-

_Fuuuck,_

He had to shake his head to clear it. Thankfully Marcian didn’t seem to notice, too busy with the button on Novius’ pants. He felt his pelvic plates shift and begin to part as his zipper was tugged slowly downward. He then hissed as the older man’s hand grazed him, pushing back at his shoulders as he struggled to put a little space between them. He was far more sensitive beneath the waist than he should have been, the spreading of his plates had actually stung and hurt, though not a lot.

Marcian caught on quickly, his mandibles slanting smugly. “I see _manual stimulation_ is out of the question for the moment.”

His subharmonics were full of good natured teasing as he maneuvered onto his knees and straddled Novius’ thighs.

“It’s just a little much right now.”

Marcian nodded in understanding but he continued to toy with the edge of Novius’ pants. “My tongue is a lot softer than my hands,” He said offhandedly and began to deliberately inch the trousers down.

The intent in the man’s harmonics had heat exploding in Novius’ stomach and his blood thundering through his veins. His plates shifted again, spreading wide open so fast that a dual toned yelp tore from his throat and he reached out blindly to cling to the hands on his hips.

“If you want, I can certainly-“

“Spirits,” He whimpered. “Yes, yes. Just gently Marcian, please.”

The older man was gentle but not like Tanis had been a few nights ago.  She had barely interacted with him and touched him as if she was terrified of breaking him. But Marcian caressed his waist firmly, tracing the edge of plating just above his stomach and the lines of muscles that had only just lost their definition. Novius lifted his lower body enough for Marcian to slide his pants down and then carefully remove them from his spurs before pulling them off completely. Then, perching above his thighs again, he leaned over Novius to stare down into his eyes. He saw genuine desire reflected in the dark verdant depths.

Marcian’s hand cupped and held his mandible when Novius hadn’t even seen or felt him move. He tilted his face into the warm palm, a quiet purr filtering up through his chest as the older man stroked his thumb over the edge of it and down the length of the little spines. He was already expecting the kiss Marcian gave him but he hadn’t been expecting the free hand that came up or the blunted talons that followed the line of colony paint over his nose and under his eye to the tip of the spine at his temple.

Novius sucked in a breath as the older man broke away from his mouth and began sliding down his torso. His thoughts swirled and spiraled; that had been a loaded gesture, one he wasn’t sure how to take. Turians just _didn’t touch_ one another’s colors flippantly. Was he supposed to return the touch? Offer his throat in submission? Novius didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t even sure if he should acknowledge what Marcian had done. But when the unusual feeling of belonging started to bloom and then flood he knew he had to say something.

He trilled in confusion, his hands shaking for more than one reason as they settled on the man’s cowl. Marcian paused where he’d been making a path with his tongue to Novius’ inner thigh.

“What is it?” He asked quietly.

“I...um,” His voice abandoned him as he studied- really studied- the other man’s tattoos for the first time.

The white pattern stood out drastically against the dark plating and covered all of Marcian’s face. Foreplate, above and under his eyes, swooping down both his mandibles and chin before it stopped at the rim of his crest except for the three stripes that reached to the ends of his fringe, one at each temple and that one in the center. Novius himself had only the single dense streak of orange and he felt barefaced by comparison.

“You touched my…tat.” He finished lamely.

“I did,” Marcian murmured and lowered his head to continue, Novius could feel him getting closer to the edges of his opened plates. He spoke with his mouth centimeters from them. “You touched mine first. Should I not have done the same?”

When had he- ? _Oh Spirits, fuck. The stripe!_

“I didn’t mean to.” He defended quickly. “I wasn’t even thinking,”

The man gently urged his legs open a little more, pressing his mouth to Novius’ belly just above his groin. “Nor was I.” He said with confessional undertones. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, sweet boy, if you don’t want it to.”

Marcian didn’t allow him time to reply, immediately ducking his head down and licking his wide-spread plating and the already half hard cock that had just left Novius’ sheath. His head fell back, stunted fringe smacking onto the pillow as his breath escaped him in a sharp gasp and he shuddered from head to foot.

 _It didn’t mean anything_ , He told himself, banishing the miniscule possibility of ever having a loving mate, knowing that he probably wouldn’t live long enough, or be himself long enough to appreciate it. _It was just a touch… It was just a kind of – really- personal touch…even though it felt so good, so right._

Novius had a sudden memory, an old one, of his mom reaching up to touch his father’s face the night before he’d been deployed on Digeris for the first time. Her small hands had held gently to his face, both thumbs tracing back and forth over the strip of orange. He remembered them speaking quietly to each other, soft words of love and promises to be kept. He closed his eyes against the memory; remembering the love his parents had had…more often than not it was too painful.

“Novius,” Marcian had stopped his ministrations again, looking up from between his legs with concern. “Do you need me to stop?”

“Spirits no.”

“Then you should take your talons out of my shoulders.” There wasn’t any reproach or sign of pain in the older man’s tones but Novius instantly released the vise-tight grip he hadn’t even known he’d taken.

“Sorry Marcian,” He murmured.

The man ignored him and rolled his shoulders to work out the stiffness before lowering his head yet again. It wasn’t long before Novius was panting and lifting his hips with every swipe of Marcian’s tongue. The older man was a master with his mouth, adding just the right amount of pressure and then taking it away, each lick a tease and an assurance of more. Soon Novius was riding the building wave of pleasure, breathing harder, lifting his hips with more insistence and reaching out to grab Marcian’s upper arms. His grip was firm even as he curled his fingers loosely so he didn’t cut into the flesh with his talons; he’d already caused the man too much discomfort if not outright pain.

As good as the soft wetness of Marcian’s tongue felt as it mapped out the inches of his cock, Novius’ body craved more. The older man seemed to sense his need, giving one last long, lingering lick from the base up that had him quivering and fighting not to buck into the contact. Then his legs were abruptly pushed farther apart and Marcian was above him looking down, desire turning his green eyes so much darker. Novius felt his heart jump in speed at the look the older man was giving him, like he was an oasis after centuries in the wastelands. It seemed impossible, but his blood surged quickly in his veins and he was much harder than he’d been seconds ago.

Marcian’s mandibles twitched once before opening into a wide grin. The older man was so much taller than him that even stretched out fully underneath him, Novius’ feet barely reached past the man’s legs spurs to his calves. Marcian ground against him forcefully, putting most of his weight behind his hips and supporting the rest on his hands. Novius felt a thrill run through him, _this_ was what he’d been longing for. To be held down, controlled and taken, to have his pleasure ripped from him by someone that actually _knew_ what they were doing. To be-

_When the fuck did he lose his pants?_

Novius couldn’t stop the shiver that racked his frame or the aberrant whine that left his mouth at the feeling of the other man’s bare erection pressed alongside his own. Marcian was a solid presence above him, his considerable size holding him relatively flat while his hips built a slow tempo, still grinding on his smaller body. Novius didn’t think it could possibly get better and then it did. Marcian’s mouth crashed against his, that clever tongue of his winding around Novius’ in a mind-bending way, tasting him, coaxing out his enjoyment. Soon he was rubbing against Marcian’s muscled abdomen helplessly.

He was the one that broke their kiss in desperate need of air, pushing the older man back by his shoulders. Marcian stayed resolutely pressed against his groin, his hips just slightly rocking as he tilted his head down and put his mouth to Novius’ throat. He whimpered, expecting a vicious bite although he knew Marcian wouldn’t do more than lightly nip. But he didn’t even do that, he just breathed harshly into Novius’ skin, the rhythm of his hips picking up.

Still taking ragged breaths, Marcian deftly maneuvered a hand between them and easily wrapped it around both their cocks. Trapped against the man’s slick hardness, Novius felt like he was going to burn from the inside out and the only thing that kept him from screaming in pleasure was Marcian’s mouth finding his again.

Novius withered under the larger man, caught up in the sensation of a tight fist pumping his cock firmly but leisurely. Marcian continued to kiss him with a thorough hunger, barely backing off even when the need for air had to have had his vision blurring at the peripherals. All too soon Novius couldn’t take the growing tension that made him feel like a coiled spring about to unwind in an extreme manner. It was also about the time he realized Marcian had every intention of pushing him past his breaking point and that he was utterly ruthless about it.

He held the older man’s heated gazed, knowing that his own stare was just as eager and hummed a low tone of deliberate challenge at Marcian; daring him to up the ante. The older man’s smile was feral and his hand tightened around both of them almost to the point of pain. On the following down stroke, Novius’ eyes rolled back in his head and his hips bucked hard enough to rock Marcian back on his heels. His subtones rumbled with satisfied triumph as Novius unraveled beneath him. He planted his feet against the bed for leverage and wrapped both his hands around Marcian’s waist as he tried to match the rhythm of those strokes.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” He murmured as that dark hand grew even tighter and started moving faster. There was no way he was going to last. There was no way he was going to let Marcian force him to cum so soon; he wanted the man inside him again before that happened. “St-stop, stop for just a- Ah! _Fucking spirits Marcian.”_

Novius had almost completely lost it when Marcian did some twisting slide thing over the head of both their cocks and if the snarl he heard was anything to go by, so had the other man. Even though his grip stayed firm, he did stop all other motions and their eyes locked.

Fuck his mouth was dry, he had to swallow a few times before he could get any words out. “I’m not going to cum until I’ve had you again.”

Marcian adjusted his grip. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Novius panted, his subharmonics a needy growl.

The man let go of the both of them and settled his hands next to Novius’ head, leaning over him, so close that he felt Marcian’s breath enter his mouth. “Tell me what you want, anything. Tell me how you want this to go…”

 _How did he want this to go? Spirits, it would be easier to list the things I don’t want._ Novius bent his knees and opened his legs more, giving the larger man all the room he’d need in the coming moments.

“I just want you to fuck me,” Novius heard himself say and Marcian gave him that look again, like he was…something to be devoured.

Marcian jerked him into a hard kiss with an arm sliding underneath to support his lower back and pulled him in close. Novius opened his mouth for the older man, moaning softly as the other hand roamed over his chest and then his waist before caressing a path down to wrap around the outside of his thigh. Marcian shifted his grip, pulling Novius’ leg up and over his hip, rocking forward to slide his erection into place but didn’t enter him. The kiss went on and on, getting more heated and desperate as Novius started to get impatient but Marcian kept moving lazily against him.

After what felt like ages, Marcian’s mouth left his and slid down his throat, tracing the over the rapid pulse with his tongue, hips rocking harder. Novius used his thigh over the older man’s hip to pull him tighter to his body, felt that hard cock starting to breach him. He gave a muffled moan against the side of Marcian’s fringe, already panting for breath, arms wrapping tight around his waist. He needed more than what the man was giving him.

“Marcian,” He whispered. “Please,”

The older man groaned against his flesh, mandibles twitching. “Oh fu- say it again, say my name again sweet boy.”

“Marcian.”

Whatever it was that he heard in Novius’ voice had him driving forward and piercing him on a single swift thrust. Marcian didn’t pause, withdrawing from him, sliding almost all the way out and then immediately thrusting into him again. Novius tried to match his movements but was seized by the experience of being filled so completely that he ended up just letting the larger man have his way. Reveling in the strength of the hands that gripped both his waist and his hip, pulling him closer, allowing Marcian to slide deeper with every hard shove. Somehow despite the power behind each thrust the older man remained achingly slow.

Marcian lifted his head, one mandible dragging along Novius’, never losing that contact until he pushed their mouth’s together. It was another of those hard and desperate kisses that had Novius rolling his hips on reflex as the pleasure swept throughout him. He spread his legs a little wider, felt the arch of Marcian’s hip bones pushing against his inner thighs and the slight pain of too much pressure on the thin flesh had him opening them even wider to relieve some of the discomfort. A second later, the older man let all his weight rest against him, his cock going deep as the support of his arms left. Still kissing Novius he reached down and grabbed each thigh, pulling them back to his hips tightly and then reached back further to maneuver them around his waist.

"Fuck Marcian,” Novius muttered when the man pulled back from their kiss. “That feels…that feels…”

He couldn’t think of any word that properly described just how good that had felt. Marcian’s weight pinning him to the bed, too heavy on his chest, but he somehow felt so safe and then that dick he liked so damn much going the deepest inside him so far, filling him up like few had before. Had each of the man’s thrusts not been so _slow_ Novius was sure he’d have cum by now.

Marcian got his palms on the bed again, lifting his torso up so they only touched from where they were connected down. The change in angle, the added pressure on some far too tender spot inside had Novius’ vision clouding over and whiting-out at the edges. It made it hard to breathe and between them his cock pulsed with need, angry at being neglected.  He made a wild grab for Marcian’s keel, locking his fingers around the protrusion of bone like it was an anchor. He must have emitted a noise of discomfort because the older man lowered himself until they were touching completely, arms winding around him firmly.

Then everything tilted and rolled and Novius found himself sitting astride Marcian’s lap with his legs still wrapped around him while the man positioned himself to lean against the headboard. Somehow he’d managed to keep them from separating and he started that languorous rhythm again, pulling Novius down as he rocked up. The look in his eyes…Novius had to kiss him again, just had to taste all of him. It was that need to taste Marcian that had his mouth trailing down to the dark fleshed neck, his tongue circling patterns and taking in the flavor of sweat.

Novius felt that old impulse creeping up inside him, the old want he’d denied himself ever since he’d discovered how easily his self-control shattered when he was trusted with so vulnerable a spot. But Spirits, Marcian’s throat was already under his mouth and he just wanted… It was so hard to concentrate on _not_ biting with the way Marcian was driving up into him. The warm taste of the man’s skin, the beat of his pulse…Novius was quickly losing his restraint.

 _If I can’t stop myself,_ He could already tell he was going to lose the struggle of reigning himself in. A hard thrust had his concentration scattering and Novius felt his mouth starting to close over that spot where neck became shoulder and the inner part of the cowl _. Stop and ask him, damn it._

He flicked his mandibles outward against the brown skin, silently asking permission when the words, both spoken and subvocal, failed to come. Novius got his answer in the form of Marcian gripping his hips and pulling him down hard, the angle of his thrusts changing sharply as he plunged into him and growled next to his temple. It was all the permission he needed. Novius still closed his mouth on the spot a lot harder than he’d meant to and heard Marcian grunt with pain as his jaws got closer together and the skin seemed to get thinner. He tried to pull away, his self-discipline all but gone, but one of those large hands appeared just under his fringe and held him firmly in place.

“Don’t stop,” Marcian’s strained undertones vibrated under his mouth and again Novius felt his jaws tighten. “I don’t want you to stop.”

As if to underline the words, Marcian increased his pace, pulling Novius down as he drove his cock deep over and over. He lost himself to the mounting pleasure and wound his arms around Marcian’s neck, one hand cradling the back of his head. He must have started to bite harder because the older man suddenly snarled and surged upward before slamming him down on the bed. Marcian was on him again instantly, each of his thrusts harder, deeper than the last and striking on that sensitive spot again and again. Novius jerked his mouth free with a loud moan and met no resistance whatsoever as his head fell to hang over the foot of the bed.

He moaned again, closing his eyes against the pressure in his skull as the blood not filling his dick rushed there. Novius got very dizzy very quickly and with his eyes closed it felt like he was spinning out to orbit. It was too much to take and he struggled to lift his head, tightening the grip he had on Marcian for leverage to pull himself up. The man squeezed his waist, talon-tips digging in the slightest bit and slammed into Novius again. He clung to Marcian, almost shouted the man’s name as pleasure ripped through him, dragging claws of heat along his nerves. His spine bowed and it was suddenly much easier to lift his head and take another taste of-

The side of Marcian’s neck was bleeding. It wasn’t a lot-barely even noticeable actually- but it was enough to make him feel sick. The dark bruise forming on the man’s throat was precisely the reason Novius didn’t allow biting from his partners or himself. He’d never been able to control his impulses enough to not break the skin.

Novius brushed the drops of blood away with his tongue and nuzzled the man gently, his mandibles tight to his face but shaking with contrition. He opened his mouth to apologize, to maybe even beg for a little mercy if Marcian decided to return the favor that he would at least get it over with quickly. But the man shoved into him so hard that all the words escaped with the air from his lungs. Marcian pushed his head back with a palm on his foreplate, forcibly exposing every inch of his vulnerable throat. Then that hand shifted roughly around to grasp the ends of his fringe and he held Novius’ head so far back that he nearly touched the floor.

He had a moment to whimper in fear at the coming pain before Marcian lowered his mouth to the paper-thin skin.   _Oh spirits, now he’s going to bite me and it’s going to hurt so much and-_

Marcian spoke softly against his flesh. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

And he didn’t, in fact he was more careful than anyone Novius had ever let near his throat and that list was relatively small. It felt wonderful, the pull of Marcian’s teeth on his skin as he nipped gently everywhere he could reach, his tongue following in their wake and Novius actually felt safe in the man’s arms despite the slight needle-like pain. He pressed against the man’s mouth in earnest, offering the whole of his throat willingly, even eagerly. Marcian let go of his fringe and supported the back of his head so he was no longer straining just to stay vertical. With his legs still wrapped around the man’s back most his leverage was gone but it certainly made it easier to meet each one of Marcian’s thrusts.

“Marcian,” The need for release returned suddenly, fiercely hot as an inferno under his skin and in his blood.

“I know boy, I know.”

Marcian’s breathing had grown ragged, his chest just shy of heaving where it touched Novius’. He started to feel that burning-from-the-inside-out sensation again and between their bodies, Novius’ cock screamed for attention. He couldn’t reach it, not with Marcian surrounding him and nibbling a line up his neck to the underside of his chin.

“Touch me,” He said, his subharmonics high-pitched with the plea.

The older man left a wet stripe along the thud of his pulse. “I’ll have to let your head go,” Marcian told him but he did it without waiting for a reply, leaving Novius to hang over the foot of the bed again.

He was dizzy in no time, able to hear the thunderous beat of his heart in his ears. Or maybe it was Marcian’s heartbeat, strong in cadence like a war drum.

“Marcian,” He said again and more desperately this time.

Finally the man wrapped a hand around his shaft and _squeezed_ , Novius made a choked sound and he bucked into the contact. Slick with arousal he slid easily in Marcian’s palm in spite of the painfully tight grip and that twisting slide thing the man did that made his eyes roll back in his head. Both of them were too worked up to last long and Marcian’s near frenzied pounding was only pushing Novius closer to his precipice.

It was a hard nip under his chin that sent him over, his body locking up and his blood burning as he came in one wave of searing heat after another. Marcian kept working him over, hand going in a quick slide from base to tip and then back down, gripping right where he left his plates and _back_ up to circle over the head. Novius was sure he screamed this time, it explained why his throat was so raw when he finally came down from the high.

Marcian had let go of his dick at some point and buried his face into Novius’ neck while he chased his own release. The older man’s hands were tight on his waist and he jerked Novius to every thrust as he hammered into him. Novius’ arms were wrapped around his back, his thighs resting loosely against the larger man’s sides and shifting with every one of his movements. With the quickly paced tempo, it didn’t take long before he felt the way the cock inside him swelled and pulsed and then Marcian was filling him with his cum, muscles shaking under Novius’ hands as he spent himself. A few final shallow thrusts and Marcian left himself fall on top of his chest with a pleased but exhausted groan.

“Fuck,” Marcian whispered, dipping his head down to lick at his throat. “That…oh Novius I don’t think I can move right now. Is it alright if I just…stay here?”

Novius shivered at the thought of Marcian hilted inside him, keeping his seed from escaping until he’d softened and withdrew behind his plates. The man groaned into his neck again and gave his own full body shiver, cock twitching with interest inside him.

“Yeah, yeah I think I’d like that.”

“I just need a moment,” He assured hesitantly.

“It’s fine Marcian, I like how this feels.”

The man laid a soft kiss on his neck and his mandibles flicked out in a smile. Novius wasn’t sure how long they stayed connected like that, Marcian’s breath warm on his skin, the beat of his heart soothing through both their chests as it resumed a calmer rhythm and then the man finally slipped out of him and rolled them onto their sides. He kept his arms around him though, pulling Novius closer when he tried to move away. Marcian rested a hand on the back of his neck, fingers giving idle caresses under his fringe. Novius stopped resisting the hold after a moment, relaxing against his chest and allowing himself the time to enjoy it for once.

It didn’t last long.

“Novius,” Marcian murmured into his fringe, subharmonics soft and serious. “About your situation, I think I may be able to offer you a chance at a longer life.”

Novius shoved his hands into Marcian’s chest, propelling himself back far enough to look at those green eyes. As an afterthought, he piled the thin blanket in his lap. He didn’t know whether to be furious that the man had held something so _vital_ from him or be ecstatic that he knew a way to help.

“How?” He demanded.

“Shortly before the war, a medical facility on Sur’Kesh received tissue samples from the Collectors. Remember them?”

He nodded; even in Hierarchy space he’d heard news about human colonies in the terminus suddenly going dark. No one at the time (save Commander Shepard) had known it was a precursor to the Reaper invasion.

“The Helios Medical Institute began testing new treatments and trying different procedures to fight the symptoms of Corpalis Syndrome using those samples. The last report I read said they had made a lot of progress toward a cure.”

“A cure? Really?” Novius breathed the word; it was sweet on his tongue and far too good to be true.

Marcian shook his head, and he moved until they were sitting next to each other. “No, not yet but they predict some time in the next decade.”

Inside his chest a sudden cold hollowness took over. He wound his arms around himself to ward off the chill but it didn't help the shudder that ran up his spine and he had to pull his knees in to stop their shaking. “I don’t have a decade Marcian.” 

The older man reached for him then, tried to take the hand that rested on top of the blanket but Novius shifted away, laying his head across his knees to hide his face and clutching the sheets in his talons so tight he felt them dig into his palm. Marcian sighed wearily, taking his hand back and running it over his fringe.

“I’m aware of that Novius,” There was a melancholy in his undertones that Novius felt in his bones. “Nevertheless, do you have a way to make it to Sur’Kesh?”

It was an option but he had so little time left. Novius had passed more than one night wondering how he was going to spend it. Should he be with his friends? What about the places he knew or what was left of them? Palaven could use the help and he’d never actually been to Cipritine…  Wouldn’t hoping just make it hurt that much more when he found himself slowly losing everything? When he stopped being able to remember the day before, what was the point of it?

“I-I can’t.” He whispered finally. “I can’t.”

Marcian didn’t seem to understand. “I’ll get you to the institute myself then. I certainly have the means to do so.” He smiled wanly at him. “You overpaid me by quite a bit Novius.”

He knew Marcian hadn’t meant it how it sounded, that the words were supposed to be a joke and a playful jab at his profession to lighten the mood between them. But the careless comment felt like a punch to the gut and hurt a lot more than it should have. The last several weeks had left him carrying more stress than he’d ever experienced before and then learning of the possibility of a cure only to have it taken out of his hands like that had brought it all back…the sudden resurgence of that weight had him close to the breaking point and it made him angry. Angry at his illness and everything that came with it. All the things he’d lost in the process, at every morning he woke up and forgot that he was alone, and angry at Marcian too.  He didn’t think through his words before he started speaking

“Did you keep this from me until you knew I’d fuck you again?”

Marcian turned to stare at him with his mandibles wide in surprise. “Spirits no!” He exclaimed, seeming completely shocked at the suggestion. “I would never- no, Novius I wasn’t trying to keep the information from you. I just didn’t think of it until…”

“Until when?”

“Until I had you lying on my chest and I could feel the way you breathed, your heartbeat.  I had... forgotten how that felt.  To be trusted like that.  I realized I wanted you to have the same thing with someone, I do want you to live long enough to find someone that cares about you. You’re so very young Novius. I want you to have a chance at a long and full life. And if you can't, I want you to at least have _more_ time.  No one deserves what you’re going through.”

When Marcian reached for his hand again Novius allowed it, fingers loosening from their tight grip of the blanket.  “I’m sure you can guess what I’m going to say to persuade you. Do it or don't, change your mind later or not, the decision is yours Novius.” His thumb traced circles on the back of his hand, the motion soothing. “You said you were the youngest case in recent history? Then even if you can’t be…helped, treating you could expedite the process of finding a cure for others.”

Self-sacrifice and the group before the individual were deep-seated turian values and it would have been surprising if he hadn't tried to appeal to him on that level. To ignore that thing they had all been taught since birth would have been a disgrace no turian wanted. But Novius realized that even if he didn’t reap the rewards of a cure himself, there was the slight chance his life could be extended. If that extension was only a few months... Marcian was right; it would still be worth it.  Maybe his participation as the youngest individual with the disease would answer some of the questions still surrounding Corpalis Syndrome. Maybe it would answer the questions he had regarding why so rare an illness had stalked every generation on his father’s side of the family. Why other families only experienced it once and then never again… In the long run, it didn’t matter if Novius benefitted as long as _someone_ did.

Marcian was waiting expectantly for his reply, obviously tense with the fear that his answer would be no. Novius knew he could refuse and the man would think no differently of him for it, but…

“Fine.” He said quietly, subharmonics wavering between defeat and hope. “There are a few people I’d need to notify but I can leave the day after tomorrow.”

The man spread his mandibles into a wide smile, rumbling a tone of relief. “Would you like to stay a little longer?”

 

End.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: And that’s the end guys. I’m leaving the ending up to interpretation as I myself am unsure of Novius’ reply. So let your imaginations fill the gap. OP, this was a real treat to write even if it kind of got away from me and turned out a lot longer than I had planned for. And before I forget _again_ my beta reader fucking rocks!


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